


Haven't Got A CLUE

by awfuldaycupcake



Series: Unrelated Christmas One Shots! [8]
Category: Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Don't Ask, M/M, Murder Mystery, and also there's a dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 04:37:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12904227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awfuldaycupcake/pseuds/awfuldaycupcake
Summary: Secret Santa's don't usually lead to three people dead in Thomas's living room. Then again, this wasn't really a normal Christmas, was it?





	Haven't Got A CLUE

**Author's Note:**

> This is posted today, but I'm technically two days behind in the 12 Days of Shipmas writing challenge! I'll get back on track. The theme this week is giving presents. Thanks!

Patton peaked his head out from behind the countertop. Only his eyes were sticking up, and there was an excited glimmer in them. There was only one thing that could mean. _Christmastime._  

Logan wasn’t a defeatist, he’s said it himself. But that didn’t mean that he was excited for the holidays. Winter holidays were full of materialism, seasonal depression disorder, and also increased risk of virus and spread of disease. They weren’t his “thing,” to be concise. He raised an eyebrow, looking over to Patton. 

“What are you doing?” Logan said, figuring he’d play into Patton’s little game. He was keeping the emotions at optimal heights, that was all. 

“ _~Looogan~_ ,” Patton sing-songed. “Secret Santa.” 

“No,” Virgil said. He himself was perched on the corner of the couch with his phone in his hand. “Not happening, Patton.” 

“But--” Patton started.

“This is the ninth time you have caused this discussion to arise today, Patton. Virgil does not wish it. Let it rest,” Logan said. Patton’s face fell.

“But… I want to get you guys gifts! And I mean, we all know getting one big, personal gift is more important than getting a couple tiny, irrelevant gifts, right? Why not just lighten the load?”

“I honestly wasn’t planning on getting any of you gifts,” Virgil said. He looked up, and the look on Patton’s face almost tore him in two. Uh-oh. “I- I mean. I meant that since you’re _me_ , technically, and I wouldn’t get myself gifts, and--" 

“Gifts? I heard the word gifts,” Roman said, rising up into the common room.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Vigil said. Logan almost corrected him, but stopped. He was beginning to catch these phrases the others said, and while figurative language was never his strong suit, his vocab cards had been working. Patton’s eyes lit up further. He sprung up from his spot behind the counter.

“Did someone say cats?” Patton said, a grin on his face.

“You all are one unfathomable mess,” Logan said. He was right. This was getting a little out of hand. Roman straightened himself up, offering a kind smile to the other sides. 

“Well, how have things been without me?” He asked. 

“I want to do a secret Santa but no one will let me!” Patton cried out. Roman pulled away, his mouth falling open. 

“Do you mean to tell me,” Roman said, “that you planned a Secret Santa _without me_? And now what, Mister Dark and Mister Darker are telling you not to? What a load of garbage!”

Logan adjusted his glasses. He was not _dark._  And he certainly was not garbage. “Virgil did not wish to comply, so I took it upon myself to deny the idea. It is a majority rule, and as Patton proposed the vote and I abstain, Virgil is the only valid constituent. Case closed,” he said. It was simple, really. 

“Well, I shall throw my hat in the ring!” Patton said. “And I say yes!” 

“I also say yes!” Patton cheered.

“Respectfully abstain,” Logan said.

“No way,” Virgil said. He had put his phone down entirely now, and was glaring daggers at the other two sides. “There is no way. What if I get _him_?” Virgil said, gesturing to Roman. Roman feigned offence.

“Well, perhaps it will cause him to enjoy your presence more, socially, which would allow Patton and I an easier workspace without the two of you bickering all the time,” Logan said. “Sounds mutually beneficial.”

“Then it’s settled, we’re going forth!” Roman said. He sunk out before sinking in immediately after, and returning with four names on four different colored pieces of paper in a small bowl.

“Did you just have that prepared and everything?” Virgil said.

“Now, I’m sure you know the rules. Pick one name, no peeking, and get that person a gift. Go as elaborate and personal as possible, and, no matter what,” Roman said, “don’t tell the others, especially the other person, who you have. Are we clear?”

“Crystal!” Patton shouted. He raced past Logan to Roman, sticking his hand into the bowl excitedly. He returned with a purple slip.

Logan reached in next, taking a breath. While it was true that he could get any of the sides and continue to be moderately content, some of them obviously yielded better outcomes. Logan pulled his hand out, a red slip in his hands. 

Two slips were left in the bowl, and Roman was insistent that Virgil take the next one. Virgil reached in without even looking, pulling out the blue slip. 

All that was left was a black slip. Roman smiled. This was _such_ a good idea! He wasn’t sure why he didn’t have it sooner. All of the sides would get gifts, and they’d all honor him, and… 

Wait. This meant he’d only get one gift this year.

Wait.

“Hold on, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” Roman said. Logan, who was looking down at his slip with a smile, glanced up.

“Why? Doubting yourself, Roman?” Roman had to hold in a gasp. 

“Wh- no! I never doubt myself! I am a prince! I have utmost confidence!” Roman cried. He reached into the bowl, pulling out the black slip. Wow, he hoped it would be Patton. Patton was easy. Get Patton anything and he’ll love you forever. Or maybe Virgil. Roman knew Virgil well enough. Get him some Nightmare Before Christmas or My Chemical Romance merch and he’ll be happy. He opened the slip and saw the one name he didn’t want.

About an hour had passed. “Of all people, Logan,” Roman whined. He was with Patton in the kitchen loudly complaining while Patton was making dinner. Roman was leaning up against the fridge, arms crossed. Patton paused to give him a small smile before going back to hurrying about.

“That is what Secret Santa entails, isn’t it? You have to get someone you don’t know too well sometimes, or it wouldn’t be any fun! Besides, I think Logan’s an upstanding guy,” Patton said.

“He’s upstanding, alright, but it’s just. I don’t know a single thing to get him,” Roman said. “He’s way too judge-y and won’t let me get away with a gift card, and. I don’t know. Logan’s… he’s _special._  I couldn’t live with myself if I disappointed him,” Roman said. Patton looked up. Oh?

“What do you mean by special, Princey?” 

“He’s-- he’s just. It-- It doesn’t matter. Either way I am the ego! I aim to impress!” Roman shouted. Patton smiled. He knew exactly how Roman felt. 

“You’ll find something, kiddo,” Patton said.

Logan, meanwhile, was thanking anything and everything that he got Roman. He was perhaps the second easiest to give gifts to (besides Patton, of course, who you could give a couple pennies and a good pun and call it a day.) All Roman needed was something rather immature and Disney-inspired. Maybe some buttons or a DVD he didn’t have.

But… wait. What DVDs _didn’t_ Roman have? Oh. Oh no. That proposed a dilemma. What if, perchance, Logan gave him a duplicate? Roman would be upset, and perhaps Logan would fall in the social quo. It was no secret that Roman determined how the social quo operated. He was the ego, after all. Logan had to impress. 

That’s when an idea struck him. But he couldn’t do this alone. He’d need help. He’d need-- 

“Kiddos! Logan! Dinner’s almost ready!”

He’d need Patton.

Virgil, unlike Patton, was completely and entirely frustrated with this project. Roman found him sitting in the middle of his room with three different types of wrapping paper circled around him and a grimace on his face.

“What’s wrong, Para-moron?” Roman said, sitting down next to him on the ground. The two of them had reached a weird form of consensus where they’d stopped hating each other, but weren’t quite friends yet, either. That didn’t stop Princey from barging into Virgil’s room from time to time.

“I can’t get this right,” Virgil said. “God I wish you didn’t make them do this. How am I supposed to make a gift worthy of Patton? It’s like getting a gift for my dad, but I can’t get him neckties.”

“Why not? I am likely going to get Logan neckties. Maybe one or two pairs of socks,” Roman said. Virgil paused.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Virgil said. He looked up at Roman from his materials. The direct stare made Roman shift uncomfortably. “You can’t just be lame about this. These are a big deal. That might have been fine if we were giving just one gift, but it was _someo_ ne’s great idea to get everybody only one, which means it has to be special and heartfelt,” Virgil said. “How would you feel if he gives his gift, it’s super thought-out and you know, logically done, and you just get him socks? It’d be a mess.” 

Roman paused. “You… You might be right, Miserable-At-Best,” he said. “I mean, think about it. How would I feel if Logan upstaged me? _Me_ , the star of the show! Giving more creative gifts than creativity? I think not!” Roman said. In one swift motion he jumped from the floor to standing, whipping his sword out of his sheath. Virgil flinched away, barely dodging it. “I will get him the best gift that ever was! I’ll employ his love of mystery and Agatha Christie, and I _will_ be the best gift giver of all time!” Roman dashed out of the room, leaving a startled Virgil behind him. “Thanks for the tip, Verge!” Roman shouted over his shoulder.

“I meant more like guilt, but okay,” Virgil said. He almost smiled at the nickname. He took a deep breath, staring back at the wrapping paper on the floor in front of him. He had a lot of work to do. 

Time flew as the four of them scampered around each other’s backs, purchasing ribbons and wrapping paper and gifts galore. During that month when Thomas had a lapse in logic or a bit of time without any anxiety, he was sure to ask what was going on. It only took one conversation with Patton (complete with Patton squealing about Secret Santa and waving about his crochet needles, then immediately apologizing for not including Thomas) for him to understand. He was pretty glad he wasn’t included, seeing as receiving a gift from himself was kind of weird, anyway.

The day finally came-- Christmas. Three gifts were sitting under the tree, wrapped beautifully in red, green, and white wrapping paper. There was no snow on the ground, as it was Florida, but the feeling of a white Christmas was still sitting in their hearts. Patton, as usual, was the first awake, buzzing with the Christmas energy. He ran to Virgil’s door first, wrapping his knuckles loudly. “Wake up wake up wake up!” He called, a grin breaking over his face.

Virgil opened the door after him, a scowl covering his features. “What." 

“CHRISTMAAAAAAAS!” Patton shouted, running through the hallway. Virgil signed. This would be so much easier if Patton wasn’t so cute all of the time. He slowly rubbed his eyes. 

When Patton opened Roman’s door he was already standing right behind it, wearing the ugliest Christmas sweater Virgil had ever seen. “Did someone say Christmas?” Roman said with a smile. 

Logan was a little harder to wake up. He’d always been a scheduled type of person, and he was all but programmed to wake up at seven-thirty on the dot. Patton, being Patton, had woken them up around six. Virgil much preferred to sleep until noon, no matter what day the calendar said.

When they finally did wake him up, Patton rushed down the stairs, throwing himself down next to the Christmas tree. He was jubilantly clapping, a huge smile on his face.

Roman switched on some Christmas music, listening as it played through the speakers. It was perfect. 

“Wait. Why are there only three gifts under the tree?” Virgil said. His eyes scanned over the three packages. One was particularly big but thin, one was a big cube, and the other he had wrapped himself. It was easily the smallest of the three. Virgil sighed. Of course his gift would be the worst. “I mean, if someone didn’t want to get me a gift I understand, I can’t blame you, I’m kind of annoying,” Virgil said. Patton pulled him in for a hug from behind. He tensed.

“I’ll physically fight you,” Patton whispered, and Virgil felt mildly threatened. 

“I have an explanation for that,” Roman said. “Mine is a little… more _abstract_.”

“Alright alright enough talking! Let’s open gifts!” Patton shouted, pulling away from Virgil. Virgil shook his head in confusion. “Open mine first, open mine first!” Patton cheered. He sounded like a first grader at a friend’s birthday party, and Virgil thought it was adorable.

Virgil looked down at the larger cube box. A small name tag with little snowmen decorations was written on it. “To Virgil, love Patton,” it read. Virgil smiled. Huh. Maybe someone did care about him enough to get him something. He sat down next to the tree, looking up to the other sides for permission.

Logan was sitting on the couch, a cup of coffee in his hands. Roman was pacing around excitedly. Patton offered him a smile. Virgil tore off the wrapping paper.

Inside the wrapping paper was… another sheet of wrapping paper. Virgil paused, taken aback. What? Was he doing this wrong? He pulled off another layer. There was more wrapping paper.

“I’m… confused,” he said, looking up to Patton. There was a glimmer in his eye. 

“Keep going kiddo,” he said. Virgil tore off another layer of wrapping paper. And another. And another.

Finally, Virgil reached a large box. He eyed the top of it, holding his breath. Did he really want to know what the others thought of him? Maybe this was all a joke. Maybe it was some prank and the box was filled with laundry or something. Virgil didn’t know. He looked back up at Patton. No. Patton wouldn’t do that. Virgil opened the box.

A large string of colorful, round balloons rose from the box. Virgil’s eyebrows shot up. What? Attached to them was something that looked like a keychain, and underneath where they were in the box was a purple blanket. Virgil pulled up the blanket, looking at it closer. 

“I hand-crocheted it myself!” Patton said. Virgil’s eyes widened. Someone had gone all this way… for _him?_  “Ooh, check out the keychain, too!” Patton called. Virgil reached up to the balloons, seeing a small white keychain with a few buttons on it. “Press one.” Virgil did. A small popping noise emitted from the keychain. He pressed another. It popped.

“Is this, bubble wrap?” Virgil said. He pressed another button. Another pop. 

“You betcha, kiddo! And it regenerates, and every hundredth pop--” Virgil pressed the button. It made the sound of a dog barking. He made a face. “It makes a random sound!”

“That’s. That’s really cool Patton,” Virgil said, and he meant it. 

“When you’re feeling fidgety or like you need to move your hands, this little guy is here to help! And if you ever need a comfort blanket,” Patton said, gesturing to the box, “Well there you go! Also balloons, just because, you know. Balloons.”

Virgil smiled. Had they really cared about him _this_ much? He moved over, pulling Patton into a hug. Patton felt his heart melt.

“Open mine, Pat,” Virgil said then, handing him the little box.

“We got each other! Aww!” Patton said. He tore the wrapping paper off of the box, eyes pausing at what he saw. It was…  a light blue collar?

“Virgil, thanks!” Patton said. He very clearly had no idea what he was thanking him for, but being Patton, anything was good enough.

“Well, I mean. That’s not all,” Virgil said. As if on cue, a small bark came from the kitchen. Patton’s eyes went wide.

“No way.”

“I was going to get you a cat, but your allergi-” Virgil started, but Patton had already sped up and right into the kitchen.

“A PUPPY!” He shouted from the other room. Virgil smiled. Logan wasn’t amused. 

“How will we properly take care of a dog?” Logan said. “Thomas can barely properly take care of himself.”

“Oh no, Lo, this isn’t Thomas’s dog. The dog’s up here,” Virgil said, tapping a finger on his temple. “It’s as part of Thomas as we are. He’s Patton’s dog." 

Patton came into the next room with the dog in his arms and a grin on his face. It was an all white Samoyed with tiny paws and a yappy bark. Patton was in love. 

“Well, on that note,” Logan said. His coffee was gone and someone had given Patton a dog. This was truly a recipe for disaster. “Roman. Your gift awaits you.” 

“Oh Logan, you’re too kind,” Roman said, but it didn’t seem like he meant it. He moved to the tall, thin present, an almost wicked grin on his face. He tore through the paper. 

Roman loved presents. It was almost a childlike glee he possessed in opening them, in getting something for himself for entirely free. He wasn’t one to get too sentimental about it, that was for sure. But Logan’s gift… Roman’s mouth dropped open. 

Logan had gotten him a large corkboard covered in pictures, in memories. There was pictures from his first show, playbills from all of his favorite musicals, pictures of Thomas and Talyn and Joan… Roman was stunned. Flowers lined the metal frame of the corkboard, little roses and vines. Roman was flabbergasted.

The part that stunned him the most? Three tickets, one for Thomas, Talyn, and Joan, stuck to the middle of the board with a black thumb tack, to Roman’s favorite place on the planet.  _Disneyland._

“Logan, I love you!” Roman cried, pulling the other side in for a hug. Logan was intensely glad he’d finished his coffee, seeing as his mug (a two-tone blue and black mug with parabolic and sine functions, of course,) was flung to the side, just out of reach. Roman kept repeating “I love you I love you I love you” over and over again into Logan’s shoulder. Logan gave him an awkward pat on the back. Affection was not his forte, but this felt… nice. A small smile fell on his face.

“I could almost _kiss_ you right now, Logic, you clever bastard,” Roman said, pulling him in even tighter. Logan’s cheeks ran red.

“I-” Logan started, but Patton interrupted.

“I know what I’m naming the dog!” He shouted. Virgil looked up, and Roman peeled himself off of Logan. Logan had to stop himself from making some noise of protest. Why would he care if Roman left? That was… illogical.

“His name will be Id!” Patton said. 

“Like the Freudian analysis?” Logan asked. This piqued his attention. “You mean the unconscious, instinctual needs of a human. I suppose it makes sense that a dog would represent Thomas’s id, seeing as he cannot speak to or understand it. That was very astute of you, Patton.” Logan was surprised. Patton rarely had this much insight, and it was rare that he--

“I kind of meant to say Sid, but since you like it so much Logan, I’ll keep it!” Patton said. The dog was all over him, barking and wagging his tale. Logan shrugged. Fair enough.

“My present,” Roman declared, “will have to wait. Logan, you are in for a treat.” Oh. Right. Logan forgot about himself. Gifts were more about giving and eliciting a positive response. And, if Logan was honest, if that was how Roman reacted every time he received a present… Logan shivered. _Odd,_  he thought. _It is seventy-one degrees inside. I am not cold._ And yet. He couldn’t help it.

The day went by very quickly, especially for Patton. He loved his dog. He _loved_ his dog! He was sitting on the floor of the common room that evening smiling at him, the light blue collar that Virgil had given him wrapped around his neck. Virgil himself was sitting on the floor at the base of the couch, stroking the dog calmly. Id was particular to Virgil, and he loved it.

Logan was once again sitting on the couch, this time with a book in hand, when Roman burst in. 

“It’s taken me all day, Logan, but you’ll be proud to hear that your gift is prepared!” Roman said, bowing gracefully. Logan adjusted his glasses.

“Did you just forget to get him a gift or something?” Virgil said.

“No! How dare you question my planning,” Roman said. “I’ve worked hard!”

“Well then, I must ask. Where is this gift you speak of?” Logan said. It was true; Roman had walked in the room empty handed. 

“I… was getting to that. I’m going to have to ask you all to accompany me to the dining room,” Roman said.

“Is it really that big? Oh, Logan, you lucked out!” Patton said. He stood up, picking up the puppy. “I’m taking him with me,” he said, clearly in response to the weird looks he got. “If you want me, you need him.”

“Fine, fine, whatever. Just follow me,” Roman said, gesturing them out of the room. Logan stood, and even Virgil reluctantly rose from his spot on the ground. This better be good. 

The dining room was covered in elaborate red and gold garnishing, huge drapes sanctioning it off from the rest of the house. There were plates at every setting, complete with silverware (forks biggest to smallest, Roman had to remind himself. Just like dinner for the queen.) Everything was perfect.

“My present is… dinner?” Logan questioned.

“Hey now, I wish you’d sound a little more grateful than that,” Roman said. The response had gotten under his skin. Of course he’d worked hard! This was going to be the best dinner party Logan had ever been to!

“Patton makes us dinner every night, we don’t count that as a present,” Virgil said, sitting down. Roman frowned, crossing his arms.

“Just you wait. I tried my best on this, I greatly wish the group of you would try to resist the negative feedback immediately.”

“I suppose I thought that Creativity would have been a little more _creative_ ,” Logan said, taking his seat next to Virgil. Roman sighed dramatically, sitting down across from Logan. Well. Little did _he_ know…

Patton jumped up, the dog still in his arms. A look of legitimate concern was strewn across his face. His mouth fell open, and he all but screeched. Logan flinched in his seat. “Motivation’s been murdered!” Patton cried. 

“W-What?” Logan said, standing. Sure enough, there was a man that looked extremely like Thomas lying on the floor, eyes blank and wide open, his chest not rising. He was wearing a black and white suit, complete with white gloves. A butler. Conveniently, the word _Motivation_ was written on a piece of paper on his chest. He… looked very dead. “Who is that?”

Virgil looked between Logan and Roman, piecing things together. _Oh. Okay._

“Oh, yeah, Motivation. We used to call him Todd. Rip Todd,” Virgil said in complete monotone. Logan was-- confused. He was Logic. He had the best memory, the best recollection of the group, and he did not know that they had a _Todd._  Who was this Todd? Why didn’t he remember him? 

The thing that startled Logan the most, though, was that this was Thomas’s Motivation. His _motivation._  How would Thomas ever accomplish anything again? Logan was taken from his thoughts when Roman _slammed_ his fists on the table, the cutlery clanging together. “We need to find out who did this!” Roman said. His face was an angry shade of red. 

“I suppose. I believe the first thing to deduce would by the murder weapon, if he really is dead,” Logan said. “I myself am not quite so sure of the fact. He looks relatively lively--” as if on cue, the body at Logan’s feet grew slightly blue and swollen. Logan took a step back. 

“Eww eww, that’s so gross,” Patton said, covering his eyes. Virgil smirked. Logan lowered himself once again to the ground, pressing two of his fingers to Motivation's neck. There was no pulse. He snapped his fingers, gloves appearing on both of his hands. The bonuses of not existing, he supposed.

Logan tilted the victim's head up, recoiling at the large gash he saw there. “Blunt object,” he said. “Likely a pipe. A lead pipe.”

“Wait, since we’re solving a mystery, does that make us Scooby Doo and crew?” Patton said.

“Only if I am Velma,” Logan said. “The rest of you are too, how do I put this nicely, _stupid_.” Patton made a face. 

“That wasn’t nicely,” he said.

“I know I’m Daphne. Dashing, beautiful, and with a wonderful sense of fashion,” Roman said. “BUT that is besides the point! Who killed Motivation?” 

“Well, the next step would be where, I suppose. Care to follow me to the kitchen?” Logan said. “All good murders happen in the kitchen.” 

“That’s a little dark. I like it,” Virgil said, standing to follow him. 

The kitchen itself was hardly in disarray, with a single exception. Yet again there was a body on the floor. “Jeez!” Roman shouted, flinching back at the sight. Another clone of Thomas was lying on the ground, a knife lying next to him. The sign on the man’s chest read _Cook_.

“Oh no, not Bob,” Virgil said, unamused.

“So. Roman. You didn’t really make this dinner yourself, did you?” Logan said, turning to Roman. 

“Well I’m _sorry_ that I’m not exactly a chef, but Logan! There’s a body! Bigger problems!” 

He was right. Logan knelt to look down at the body closer, eyes narrowing. “The cook in the kitchen with the knife, the butler in the dining room with the lead pipe. This is beginning to sound familiar.” 

“I haven’t got a _Clue_ what you’re talking about,” Patton said with a laugh. Virgil groaned. “No. Really. Someone tell me, what’s going on.”

A scream was heard from outside. Logan jumped up, practically running out the back door. If he could stop another death from happening, if he could-- 

The dog jumped from Patton’s arms, chasing Logan out the door. It was almost pitch black, if it weren’t for the dim light of the lampposts lining the street. Another Thomas was lying dead in the front yard, a fishing hat on his head and gardening gloves on his hands. _The groundskeeper_. A candlestick was sitting next to him.  

Logan’s eyes widened. Roman watched him, a twinkle in his eyes. Logan seemed to be really loving the whole mystery thing. Seeing him excited was the cutest thing in the world to Roman. Logan was so used to being put together, so used to not allowing himself to have any fun. But to see him like this, running around with a little dog and solving mysteries. It was adorable. Roman’s heart leapt in his chest.

Virgil interrupted his thoughts. “Wow, rest in peace Jared.” 

“This needs to stop. Who could possibly--” Logan started. His eyes widened. He stood up, turning around slowly. “You,” he said. “You seemed so innocent, but I know your secret. The dog remembers the killings, that’s why he ran out ahead of me. You hired someone to kill Todd, Bob, and Jared, and you had this whole thing planned out!” He pointed his finger at Patton, his eyes narrowed thin.

Patton… burst into tears.

“No, no, no! Guys! I didn’t do it!”

“Keep your fake apologies to yourself!” Logan shouted over Patton’s cries.

“I didn’t know we even had a Todd!” Patton cried. Virgil put an arm around Patton, looking to Logan with disgust.

“Dude, didn’t you know this is just a g-”

“Aha! Virgil! Of course it was you. You’re always conniving against Thomas, it only makes sense that you’d be willing to kill the insides of his personality! Your bouts of sentiment were staged entirely to cover your own tracks. How dastardly,” Logan accused. Virgil paused.

“How _dare_ you. I care about Thomas just as much as you do. And after all we’ve been through I thought you were done _screaming_ about how I’m always the bad guy--" 

“No, no, not Virgil, he’s too nice, he would never. I would never! Why is everyone dead?” Patton said, all but sobbing now. Logan and Virgil were screaming at each other, Patton was loudly crying, the dog was barking.

Roman looked over this whole thing. He… probably could have executed this better. 

“Guys-- guys,” he started. No one looked up. “Okay, guys.” No response. “GUYS!” Logan stopped yelling, and Virgil stopped soon after. Patton loudly blew his nose. Roman paused. How was he going to get his way out of this one? He could- _oh_. He could… “It was me. Roman in the kitchen with the knife. The cook had spoiled the gravy and the meatloaf was cold. Roman in the garden with the candlestick. Jared was far too irritating. It was also Roman in the dining room with the pipe, seeing as--” as Roman went on, Logan’s face paled. Was it true that Roman was really a murderer? If that was so, then why did he feel so betrayed? Why… why was his stomach still in knots? “It was all me. I killed them all. I am a horrible murderer and you should fear me--” 

“Guys. This is all made up,” Virgil said. “Did you seriously not get that?”

Logan looked up, surprise written all over his features. Made up? Why would Roman--

His Christmas gift. This was his Christmas gift.

Virgil snapped his fingers and they were all back in the common room. Patton was once again hugging Id, and Logan was standing wobbily in his corner of the room. “So you mean this was all made up?” Patton said. 

“Yes. I admit it. I was hoping to surprise you, to let you go into your investigation mode. I did not figure I would hurt all of you in my attempts. I suppose my creativity does run wild sometimes…” Roman said. “You have my apologies, Logan.” 

“Your _apologies_?” Logan said. Roman flinched. He could feel another Logan temper tantrum coming on. Logan took a deep breath, looking over to him with a look in his eyes Roman had never seen before. “Roman. This was the best Christmas gift I have ever received.” Roman looked up. 

“What?”

“You went to great lengths to put me into a situation that you knew I loved, with the intent to bring joy and excitement to me and the other sides. If anyone should be sorry it is me. Patton, I regret being so harsh with you,” Logan said. He looked over to Patton, who was too busy playing with the puppy to pay attention. “Well. It was worth a shot, anyways. And also? I _knew_ we didn’t have a Todd up here,” he said. Roman laughed. Logan gave him a smile. “Thank you, Roman. It means a lot to me.”

Roman grinned. That’s all he wanted, really. True, he was a bit of a show off when it came to gifts, but to bring joy and make his favorite three people in the world happy? That’s all he could want and more.

“Come here,” Roman said, opening his arms. He and Patton were the type to initiate hugs, but to honestly ask Logan for a hug? Roman didn’t know if it had ever been done before. Logan shyly made his way over, wrapping his arms around Roman’s waist. He slowly nuzzled into Roman’s chest, becoming more of an embrace. Roman’s eyebrows shot up. _Oh._  This was unusually romantic for Logan. Usually that was _his_ specialty.

Virgil watched the scene unfold before him. “Hey Pat,” he whispered to Patton. “Let’s give ‘um a little space.” Patton looked up and could barely contain a little _Aww_! before sinking out, Id in tow. Virgil smiled at them, sinking out after Patton. It took them long enough. 

“You still owe me dinner,” Logan muttered into his chest. 

Roman’s heart was beating intensely fast, and he was sure Logan could hear it. He had not expected the night to go like this. Was Logan asking him out on a _date_?

“How d-does Friday sound?” Roman stuttered out.

“That sounds fit to my schedule,” Logan said. He yawned, pressing his head further to Roman’s shoulder. “I haven’t got a clue why we didn’t do this earlier.”

“Yeah,” Roman said, the warm feeling of Logan pressed into his chest. Butterflies were everywhere. Roman loved romance, but this feeling? He hadn't felt like this in a _long_ time. “Me neither.”


End file.
